


The Travels of the Nomad and his Princess

by A_F_S_M_A_S



Series: Azulaang Chakras AU [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azulaang Chakras AU, F/M, Fluff, High Character Drama, Multi, Not LOK Compliant, Not comics compliant, Recovery, Show Canon Compliant, Smut, Tense Political Scenarios, Worldbuilding, basically no one is on board for this ship except for the two of them, episodic storytelling, mental health, not books compliant, this fic is gonna have it all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_F_S_M_A_S/pseuds/A_F_S_M_A_S
Summary: Book 2 of the Azulaang Chakras AU.Eight years have passed since the end of the war. Azula, having restored her firebending after undergoing the trial to unlock her chakras, has joined Avatar Aang as his traveling companion. Azula has made peace with herself, but, as she will discover throughout their journeys, she must still make peace with the world and the people in it.
Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Toph Beifong/Katara
Series: Azulaang Chakras AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058684
Comments: 44
Kudos: 101





	1. The Cut

Mai groaned, “If I drink one more cup of herbal tea, I’m going to throw up.”

Ursa smiled as she poured. “I drank a cup of this every morning of my pregnancies, just as my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother did before me. It’s the perfect blend for an expecting mother.”

“More like it’s the only thing other than water that this little fire demon will let me drink,” she cursed before begrudgingly accepting the cup Ursa offered her.

Zuko, his voice tinted with laughter, lowered his head to Mai’s stomach, saying, “Remember that, my child. It wasn’t dad who called you that.”

Mai rolled her eyes and laughed, her chuckle mixed with Ursa’s. Their peaceful moment was interrupted by the arrival of a palace guard. “My lord, please forgive this intrusion. There is a captain here that says she has urgent news for you.”

“What captain?”

“Captain Umi, my lord.”

In quiet alarm, Zuko rose to his feet and quickly stepped to the door. “Zuko?” asked Ursa. “Who is Captain Umi?”

He paused only for a moment to answer. “She’s the captain of Azula’s ship.”

Captain Umi, one of the youngest naval captains in Fire Nation history, waited on bended knee in the throne room. “What happened?” Zuko demanded as soon as she was in his sight.

“Nothing happened, my lord,” answered Umi, who kept her head bowed low.

“Did Aang’s letter not arrive?”

“It did my lord. His lemur met us at port with the note, and we sailed for the waters of Crescent Island. On the morning we arrived, the avatar’s bison landed on the deck of our ship. He got down from it only to bow and thank us for our duty, but told us that our services were no longer required. He then asked us to convey this information to you, my lord.”

“Where is my sister?”

“She left with the avatar.”

“What do you mean?”

Umi took a silent gulp behind her closed lips. “I think she has become his... traveling companion.”

As Zuko and Mai reeled from the news, Ursa took the chance to speak. “Captain, it would be best that you and your crew keep this information to yourselves.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Captain Umi, before you go,” said Zuko, his voice slow and uncertain. “My sister. ...did she seem happy?”

Umi nodded. “Yes, my lord. She seemed… more than happy, in fact.”

Zuko collected himself, taking a breath before giving the captain a small nod of gratitude. “Thank you for your service. You’re free to go.”

Mai waited for Umi to exit the room before speaking. “I thought the plan you cooked up with Aang was to give Azula the ship if she passed the test.”

“It was.”

“Then what happened?” asked Mai, keeping her voice low.

Zuko looked to his mother, hoping to see if her private meeting with Aang could provide any insight. But Ursa remained silent, her expression wracked in surprise and contemplation. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his mind hounded by questions. Why would Azula go with Aang? Why would she turn down her own ship after being confined in Doiyasu Asylum for so long?

What happened on Crescent Island?

* * *

The Western Air Temple, unlike its sisters, had been carved and sculpted into the heart of a cliff inside a great chasm instead of being built atop a mountain. Azula had only visited the temple once before, when she was attacking it. Even after eight years, the old stones still bore the unmistakable marks of the bombs her airships had dropped. As she stepped through the temple grounds, Azula could hear the explosions, the images of her fight with Zuko flashing in the back of her mind. She stopped as she came face to face with a stone column cracked by time and scarred by fire. The muscles in her arm started to twitch, lifting her arm slowly as if of its own volition. Her finger stopped before touching the blackened stone itself, for fear it would crumble like shards of glass upon contact with her violent hands.

What a far cry this sight was from all the wonders he had already started to show her.

The mood as they left Crescent Island had been so high that she didn’t think of where they were going. They didn’t have a plan on where to go, nor did she feel the need to make one. She was just happy to be at Aang’s side. They spent many days flying to a variety of sights that Aang had visited in his travels, from the Garnet Peaks where the great griffins roosted, to the golden beaches where he showed her how to catch a ride on a giant kangapaca, to the Whirlpool Labyrinth of Uzumaki.

It was only a few days ago that he had shown her the Living Maelstrom.

“So, how did this place earn such a moniker?”

There was no land for miles, and only a calm ocean below them. “Patience, princess,” Aang promised as he carefully bended the water to give them a deeper, clearer view beneath the surface. “This event only happens once each year.”

The waters were vacant for however long it took for her to start thinking that nothing was going to happen. As much as boredom started to creep into Azula’s mind, a loud sense of optimism hoped that whatever Aang was waiting for would happen, just so he wouldn’t fly from here disappointed. For a moment, Azula thought she finally saw a sign of life in the form of a black koi fish far beneath the surface, but it was gone with the blink of an eye, so she wrote it off as a trick of the light.

They came alone at first, just a handful of seafaring stragglers who seemed to pay one another no mind. Slowly, more and more trickled into view as pairs, trios, and quartets. Then, before she knew it, they came together as an army beyond counting. Scores upon scores of creatures from over a hundred species, animals that would normally avoid one another out of fear, gathered for a scene that Azula couldn’t conjure in her wildest dreams. Silver wolf eels, amber stingjellies, emerald iguana seals, giant azure squids, monochrome skunk fish, scarlet sea snakes, golden cheetah sharks, and schools of colorful fish that Azula couldn’t identify came together, swimming in rings around them as far as the eye could see. The ocean came alive in a vortex of color that would put any rainbow to shame. Flying dolphin fish with violet fins leapt from the water, gliding so high they nearly reached Appa. A mighty diamondback crocodile, armored in shining scutes, swam out of her childhood monster stories into view among animals that, for one day, bore it no fear. Even a lone shark whale appeared to take part in the dazzling display. Azula, in a moment of almost childish adoration that only Aang could inspire in her, wondered if it was the same shark whale they had ridden on during their time on the island.

As she marveled at the sight below, Aang explained, “Ancient nomads said this gathering opens a portal to the spirit world, far beneath the waves. Spirits on both sides connect to allow souls to enter the spirit world and to let old spirits reincarnate in this world.”

“Being reborn as a fish. Not a very appealing idea,” she muttered, still starstruck by the creatures below.

Aang gave her one of those smiles that, depending on her mood, would earn him either a piece of taunting banter or an annoyed kiss. “I think you’d come back as an angelfish, Azula.”

“The things you think a woman wants to hear, avatar.” She had to turn her head to hide the evidence on her cheeks of just how much his endearing charm got under her skin. 

The life of a nomad was strange to Azula, but it was starting to grow on her.

The idea of coming to the Western Air Temple hit her without warning one day as they ate a late breakfast. It immediately did not sit well in her mind or guts, so she tried to dismiss it and focus on other things. But the idea never left her mind until she gave it serious deliberation, and once she did no other course of action withstood her decision.

“Azula?”

He had caught her using the small hand mirrors from his satchel to look at her hair from many angles. She calmly put them away, and took a slow, deep breath as she worked up the courage to put thought into words. “I need to ask you something.”

Aang, ever honest, did not conceal his surprise when she asked him to bring her to the temple. When he calmly pressed her as to why she wanted to and got her to admit her plan, he rushed to show his concern and support, offering her other paths she could take, ones that did not weigh so heavily upon her shoulders. His words almost made her relent, but she could not be dissuaded. This wasn’t a matter of want or comfort.

Azula had to do this.

“Did you visit this place before the war?” she asked, her hand still hovering over the burned stone.

“I did.”

“What was it like?”

He couldn’t hide the nostalgia in his voice if he tried. “It was beautiful. This was where Yangchen, the Air avatar before me, was born and raised. Monk Gyatso took me here once for the annual grand pai sho tournament.”

“Pai sho tournament?”

“The nuns here, despite their humility, liked to brag to anyone and everyone that pai sho was invented at their temple millennia ago by a wise mother. My people weren’t competitive by nature, but when it came to pai sho we were absolutely merciless.”

She smiled, but couldn’t find it in her to join in his laughter. His kind hand rested on her shoulder. “The temples are being restored, Azula. Someday soon, my followers and I will come to rebuild this place.”

Because it was him, and only him, Azula spoke honestly, ignoring the instinct to bite her tongue. “Conquest and destruction came so easily to me. Everywhere I went, in one way or another, I had to control whatever and whoever was around me. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t even tolerate the idea of leaving them in peace. Sometimes… sometimes I can still feel the traces of that person, like the clawing of a dying tigress at the back of my mind.” She hung her head. “How could you have forgiven me for this? For all the things that I’ve done?”

“It can be hard to forgive, but it is the first step towards healing.”

“Healing,” she repeated, finally relaxing into his touch. “I never thought I’d feel even a fraction of the peace I do now. I had given up hope on ever being a firebender again, of being my own person. Now I have both. But to truly forgive myself? ...I don’t know if I can. Perhaps my stubborn choice to keep living in this world will lead to that someday. I’ve reclaimed my fire, but…” Azula ran her hand along the pillar’s black mark. As she approached the end of the scar, her fingers curled into a resolute fist. “Now I must restore my honor. Whatever little there is to reclaim.”

Aang hung his head, the object in his hand suddenly feeling far heavier. “Azula, I know this is a Fire Nation custom, but-”

She turned to look at him. “Do you trust me, Aang?”

Even after what they had been through, all that they had shared with one another, Azula so rarely used his name. She always addressed him as the avatar, and always in an irreverent manner. But there was nothing light-hearted in her voice or eyes now, only a grave plea for faith.

“Yes.”

She held up her open hand. With only a brief breath of reluctance, he handed her the knife.

Azula stepped away from him out to the edge of the cliff, gripping the blade tight. Looking out at the opposing side, she was reminded of the quick thinking that had saved her life during her battle with Zuko, using her hair piece to catch herself against the rocks. Those days were long behind her, in more ways than one. She had control over her fire once more, and hoped never to return to the person that used it against her own family. With that resolve in mind, Azula collected her long hair into her left hand, pulling it taut at the crown of her head. With only a moment’s hesitation as the blade rested against her hair, Azula cut through the root. 

The pain was brief. The way she felt as she looked at the long, black strands in her hand was not. Slowly, she raised her fist over the edge and willed herself to let go. The wind took them quickly, scattering the hair until it faded from Azula’s view. When she returned to him, Aang pulled out the small mirror from his satchel and handed it to her.

She had never seen a Fire Nation woman with short hair before. Royalty, nobility, military, peasantry, even colonials, it didn’t matter. All Fire Nation women wore their hair long. It was a mark of tradition, of pride. One of the few pleasant memories she had of her mother was of a time when Ursa did her hair, brushing, styling, and tying it into the braids and topknot of a princess. Azula wished she could tell that little girl to savor those moments, that she was foolish for thinking she had grown beyond caring for what she saw as her mother’s fussiness.

The woman in the mirror staring back at her was half a stranger. Her hair wasn’t even long enough to form the smallest of topknots. But Azula took it as a small victory that she felt no desire to shatter the mirror that held her reflection. “Hair grows back,” she told herself. 

Without a word, Aang offered her his hand. Azula took it without hesitation.

* * *

“I still can’t believe you know how to work with hair.”

Aang waited a day before asking if she would like his help. When Azula awoke the morning after the cut, the phantom feeling of her long hair still clung to the back of her head. She had absentmindedly tried to run a hand through it, as was her habit when waking up in the morning, only to run her fingers through thin air. She was thankful that Aang was an early riser and had missed that moment.

Azula sat still as he evened out what had been left behind after the cut with a pair of scissors. She suspected he was enjoying himself a little too much as he then gently combed and brushed her hair. “Airbenders might prefer bald,” he said, “but we learn at a young age how to maintain our looks. And I’ve gotten plenty of experience over the years. Katara, Toph, Sokka, Suki, even Zuko.”

“Zuzu actually let you do his hair?”

“Mm-hmm. I had to coax him into it, but as you know I have quite a way with words.”

“I’d like to see that some day.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The casual way he said it, the easy yet steadfast manner with which he believed that she could reconnect with Zuko one day, was overwhelming. Even after all they had shared with one another, all the ways they were starting to connect, the hope that he could instill within her felt too good to be real.

With one last brush and a brief, soft stroke with the back of his finger on her hair, he declared, “I think I’m just about done.”

The woman in the mirror was still a stranger, but one that Azula felt she could get to know better over time.

“For what it’s worth,” said Aang, gentleness radiating from his voice like sunlight, “I think you look good.”

“That’s not saying much. You thought I looked good the night I barged into your tent with a fire in my hand.”

She could hear the smirk on his face as he replied, “Are you questioning the avatar’s judgment, princess?”

Azula shrugged, her voice so prim and all-knowing. “I’m saying you’re biased. You’re so enraptured by me that you can’t form an objective opinion.”

He laughed, which brought a smile to her face, as it often did. It was a comfortable routine that they had fallen into. Whereas the person she once was would deceive and belittle friend and foe alike, Azula could now playfully tease someone who gave as good as they got. She liked to think that this was how friends properly treated one another, even if she wouldn’t exactly call their relationship friendship.

Some of their activities together were decidedly more than friendly.

* * *

“Azula, not while we’re flying on Appa.”

She giggled in that toying manner of hers, speaking directly into his ear while her hands continued moving over his clothes. “We’re on top of his head. He can’t see us.”

“But he can hear us. And Momo’s watching.”

That was true. Azula peered behind them to see the lemur balanced atop the front of the saddle, eying her suspiciously. Both animals did not fully trust her, even if they had accepted that Aang was spending more and more time with her.

“Did the monks tell you never to mingle near your animal companions?” she teased, her lips a breath away from his ear.

She delighted in seeing him squirm and blush. “It went without saying.”

Azula laughed. “Then I’ll just have to work harder to turn their star pupil into a degenerate.”

Aang’s discomfort quickly turned to a cocky smile as he turned to look at her. “Not if I make an upstanding world citizen out of you first.”

She placed a kiss to his neck and flicked him in the back of the head. “Keep dreaming, avatar. I appreciate all you’ve done, but don’t go thinking that you can tame me.”

“As you say, my princess.”

* * *

In bed, Azula would often trace her fingers along the arrows of his arms and forehead. Tonight was no exception. They laid side by side, his right arm wrapped around her, letting her trail her finger up and down his arm and hand. “Have you ever thought about letting your hair grow?” she asked.

“I did once. Back when I was traveling throughout the Fire Nation in disguise.”

She rolled her head up to look at him. “Why do Air Nomads shave their heads? My history books always wrote it off as a quirk of a less civilized people.”

The words came out so casually, as easily as the recitation of any other lesson from childhood might. When he raised an unamused eyebrow at her, Azula immediately recognized her mistake. “But I don’t think that!”

Aang moved past it, knowing how effective the Fire Nation’s propaganda was on the education of their youth. “When an airbender earns the rank of master, they’re shaved all over so they can receive their arrow tattoos. It’s also a sign that we detach ourselves from traditional aspects of worldly attachment, such as fashion and physical beauty.”

“So would you? Would you grow out your hair again?”

He shrugged. “Well, I might, but you’re already so drawn to me. If I let my hair grow back, you’ll never let me get out of bed.”

She grinned and flicked on the forehead. “You’re not as irresistible as you think you are, avatar.”

Aang pulled her so she was on top of him, chest to chest. “That’s not the impression I got last night.”

* * *

The days immediately following her decision at the temple kept them in the old lands of the western Air Nomads, going about their days with the routine they had fallen into. Once, as they walked through the forests surrounding the temple, Aang realized he could take her to see Kokkanzo, let her see where this all started…

 _No_ , he dismissed with a shake of the head. As important as that forest was for the two of them, Azula wasn’t ready to see it. At least not yet. Kokkanzo might have another surprise in store for them. Considering how he arrived there in the first place, Aang knew the decision to take her there one day might not be up to him.

Wherever they landed, they spent much of their time training. She was finally starting to put on a healthy amount of weight, despite her awkward adjustment to his vegetarian lifestyle. Through their sparring sessions, she was starting to rebuild her toned musculature. Her days in the sun removed the unhealthy pale shade that had overtaken her skin. She even seemed to grow more comfortable with her short hair. Any and every time she caught him shooting her an admiring glance, Azula would shake her head, flash him her smug smile, and say something cheeky and taunting, but he knew she loved the way he looked at her.

If Azula had her way, Aang would never be out of bed until noon. Though she had a nightgown, she preferred to leave it and her smallclothes to the side of the mat they slept on before crawling under the blanket. Aang considered it a sign of just how comfortable she had become being with him, but having a naked, beautiful woman by his side every time he went to sleep and woke up made both activities more… eventful.

One night, he slipped away after dinner to waterbend at a small, nearby lake. She came up behind him and stayed there, out of sight. “Enjoying yourself?”

“In a way,” he replied. “I practice each bending discipline for a different purpose.”

“And what do you get out of waterbending?”

“A calming sensation. Plus, water’s a fun element to play with.”

“Is that so?”

She walked into view on his right side completely nude, swaying her hips as she stepped into the water. For all the ways she didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin, Azula reveled in the effect she had on him, how he was unabashedly enthralled by her. She stopped once the water was almost up to her knees and peered over her shoulder. “Gonna keep playing with your water, or are you going to play with me?”

He grinned. “Both.”

Before Azula could react, Aang was already moving his hands. Two watery tentacles grabbed her at the wrists and pulled them together, fusing into one leash. Another tentacle quickly coiled around her waist. With an easy pull, the water tentacles forced her to bend at the waist and kept her in that position.

“Look at that. Looks like I’m an Azula-bender too.”

For some reason, his display of aquatic prowess reminded Azula of how she was briefly subdued by Katara at Ba Sing Se. For the first time, thinking of that incident did not have an entirely negative feeling attached to it. Azula dismissed the thought, deciding to think on the connection at another time. She cocked her head up to flash him a defiant, goading smile. “You think you can hold me, avatar?” she asked. Her aquatic chains started to steam under the controlled expression of her firebending.

He was already moving towards her. “Long enough.” The water dropped as soon as his arms and lips were on her.

* * *

But the good times could only go on so long. He had been fortunate to find enough time to go through the chakra ritual with her, and was even luckier to have had so much time afterwards. But he always knew in the back of his mind that, sooner or later, the world needed the avatar once again.

In the Earth Kingdom, Aang landed at a secluded spot near a small village equal distance between Muli and Republic City. Azula stayed behind with Appa and Momo while he made his way into town to restock their supplies. He tried to go incognito, but someone caught a glimpse of the tattoo hidden beneath his sleeve and loudly screamed in excitement.

“Hello, everyone!” he greeted the swelling, surrounding crowd. “Just traveling through the Earth Kingdom, doing whatever I can to help. Is there any pressing matter I can help your village with?”

“Yeah! I’ve got a pressing matter,” one man bellowed. “Three unmarried daughters!”

The crowd roared with laughter while a trio of women started turning red. Aang gave them a sympathetic nod. This wasn’t the first time someone tried to hook him up with their children, and it wouldn’t be the last. After all, what parent wouldn’t try to make a son-in-law out of the avatar?

The lively greeting was cut off by the arrival of a rider atop an ostrich horse. “A dozen scrolls sent in a dozen directions, sir!” she stated, handing it over to them. “Sangrah calls for aid!”

He thanked the rider for her service and the villagers for their hospitality before quickly taking his leave. He knew Azula would see right through him if he tried to hide it, so he immediately pulled her aside after loading the new supplies on Appa’s saddle. “I received a message in town.” He pulled the scroll from his satchel and handed it to her. “They’re asking for me to help them.”

Azula read over the scroll carefully. Though unfamiliar with Sangrah, it carried a seal with a common style used in the central Earth Kingdom. “So what are you going to do?” she asked, showing more worry in her tone and expression than she wished.

“I have to go to them. They have asked for the avatar’s aid and wisdom.”

“And what do you see for me while you’re performing your duties?”

“That depends on you. What would you like to do?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you would like to do?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“And I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

Aang paused and smiled, dipping his head in recognition of the awkwardness of their exchange. “I get the feeling that if we keep going back and forth like this, wanting the other to make a decision for them, we’re never going to make up our minds.”

“Being considerate towards others is a rather large inconvenience. I was better off not when I wasn’t caring about people’s feelings.”

He laughed. “Sorry, Azula. Compassion has already taken hold of you. You’re only going to become more kind and thoughtful from here.”

She smiled, and did her best to ignore how parts of her mind rebuked such an optimistic prediction. In defiance of those thoughts, her next words burst from her lips in a stumble. “Could I… come with you?”

His surprise held his tongue only for a second. “You mean come with me as in be by my side kind of come with me?”

“You can’t just keep leaving me at camp with the an-... with Appa and Momo. Eventually, the rest of the world will have to see me again.” The idea of being perceived by others almost made her feel sick, but she stubbornly pressed forward with the suggestion. “The avatar could use someone watching his back, and… perhaps I might benefit from exercising my new... nicer people skills.”

His indecision was quickly replaced with excitement. With a sudden rush of air, Aang was leaping over her head, landing with gusto at Appa’s side. The way he held out his hand to her reminded her of his life changing offer on the beach of Crescent Island. “Want to be a hero with me, Azula?”

Azula ignored the uncertainty scratching at the back of her mind and took Aang’s hand, joining him for his next adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020, for all its many, many faults, saw me at some of my most productive as a writer. The reception I have received for this AU has lifted my spirits, and has given me greater confidence in myself than I've ever felt before as a writer.  
> Thank you all for your support!  
> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome!
> 
> Sincerely,  
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


	2. The City of Coins

Sangrah was deep in the heart of the Earth Kingdom, located northwest of the great Si Wong Desert. The old city served as a major trading hub, making it one of the richest areas on the continent. This affluence made it an early target for the Fire Nation, who sought to destabilize the economy of the Earth Kingdom and exploit the city’s wealth for the personal gain of generals and governors. Following the war’s end, there was an attempt to return the city to its old status quo as an autocracy under the control of a council of merchant lords. However, the old families that once ruled had died out before the end of the war, driven to extinction by competition with the Fire Nation and with one another over the scraps that firebenders left them. Now, a power vacuum dominated Sangrah.

“The last governor of Sangrah was Colonel Sorozu, who was appointed by my grandfather,” Azula stated, going over the letter that the rider had given to Aang one more time. Sangrah had been conquered long before she was born, so she needed him to fill in the gaps and refresh her memory from the war reports and the lessons of her academy days.

“He was one of the last holdouts from the eviction,” explained Aang. “I ended up having to take away his bending.”

Aang did not speak of the matter with pride, only with a sense that he did what had to be done, though the note of hesitance in his voice was obvious. As bending was still such a vital aspect of Azula’s identity, he knew it would disconcert her to hear of another firebender losing theirs, regardless if she felt his actions were justified or not

Azula kept a cool tone which told him little of how she felt of Sorozu’s fate. “He had quite a reputation for ruthlessness.”

“By Fire Nation standards or normal standards?”

“Both.”

Aang gave a comical shudder. “I got that impression from just how happy people were to see him go. The old man did not go down easy.”

Azula put the scroll down. “What’s wrong?”

He paused, dumbstruck by her insightfulness. He thought he was being casual and reticent, but she had seen right through his handful of words. There really was no keeping secrets from Azula. Aang took a brief breath as he gathered his thoughts. “After we forced Sorozu and his army out, the people of Sangrah asked me to appoint their next leaders. I tried to give them the choice, but there was too much infighting to reach a consensus. In the end, I chose a healer, an earthbending sage, and a scholar.”

“Leaders from academic and religious backgrounds. You chose candidates who would honor the local traditions while also steering the city in the right direction. That was a wise move.”

He smiled, as he always did when Azula paid him a compliment, but it didn’t last long. “I thought the same thing at the time. But now one of them is dead, one is missing, and one is so terrified that they won’t leave their temple.”

“You cannot blame yourself for the failures of others.”

“Can’t I? The government I put in place is on the verge of collapse, and now the city faces civil war. If I had-”

Azula stepped carefully from the saddle to his side on Appa’s head. “You chose the best candidates at your disposal, and you must have had other matters to deal with at the time. At some point, the people you help must stand on their own two feet. Their success is dependent on their choices.”

It didn’t take the experience of an avatar or the wisdom of a monk to see that Azula held herself to that standard as much as she did others, if not more so. It was heartening for Aang to know that she understood that her improvement, both at Doiyasu Asylum and Crescent Island, was her choice. Her healing was a long, grueling process, and he knew she still carried scars from her past, but he always made sure she knew how happy he was for her, how proud he was of just how far she had come. He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her one of those smiles that he knew she found winsome. “You’re getting pretty good at cheering people up, Azula.”

She rolled her eyes as the corner of her mouth started to curl against her stubborn cheek. “Someone has to stop you from acting like a perpetual martyr.”

* * *

As the city started to form as a speck on the horizon, Appa began his descent towards a small plateau. “Why are we stopping here?” Azula asked.

“My plan is to enter the city discreetly. I’ll leave you, Appa, and Momo here for a few hours and enter the city in disguise. I want to get a read on the situation from the regular people of Sangrah, and see how it’s affecting them.”

Azula considered the plan. It wasn’t a bad one, but she couldn’t stop herself from offering a better alternative. “No. You should arrive in public on Appa. With a city in chaos, your arrival will send a message to the populace that you have returned to reestablish order, while also putting fear into the hearts of the agitators.”

“What about you?”

Azula was already changing out of her normal attire and into one more typical of the Earth Kingdom. “Drop me off here. The locals won’t recognize me, so I can blend into a crowd better than you can. You put on the show the people need, and I’ll get a view as only a nameless vagabond can.”

Aang turned to Sangrah, separated from the plateau by several miles of open plain. “It’s going to be a long journey on foot.”

She shrugged. “Well, a princess would always prefer a palanquin, but if desperate measures are called for, then I guess I can walk.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I appreciate all the sacrifices you make for me, Azula.”

“You better,” she told him with a smile.

He floated in front of her, taking the ends of her sash and tying it around her waist. “I can do that myself,” she half-protested.

“I know you can,” he said, his voice smooth and soothing, as it often was. 

Had it been anyone but him, she would have felt coddled and underestimated, and would have flown into a rage at being treated so delicately. But this was Aang, who knew how powerful she was and respected her strength. These little acts he did for her were not out of a belief that she needed help. He did them simply because he liked to help her, in big ways and small ways. Of course, actions like this also gave him an excuse to get close to her, to get his hands on her waist. 

As if he needed an excuse to get his hands on her.

Their kiss was intended to be short, as would their separation, but as Aang’s lips landed on hers, Azula was overcome with a sudden softness that ran from her head to where his hands rested on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him. It should have been ridiculous, a princess and the avatar getting so easily lost in such small moments of intimacy, heedless of their surroundings and their stations, but she didn’t care. Any sense of propriety or the perceptions of others didn’t matter when she was with him.

“Try not to miss me too much,” she told him when their kiss finally ended, lightly flicking him in the chin with her finger.

He responded by slowly running the back of his finger against her cheek. “Took the words right out my mouth.”

With one last nod goodbye from his rider and a yip yip, Appa launched into the air again with Aang and Momo onboard. It wasn’t long into her own trek to the city, perhaps a half hour or so, that she began to regret the necessity of this element of her plan, and found herself honestly wishing for a palanquin. _How do people tolerate having to walk everywhere?_ Even after all this time, Azula knew that pieces of her inner princess would never change.

As she came upon a section of the main road surrounded by large rocks jutting sharply up from the ground, the hairs on the back of her neck started standing up. _Of course_ , she thought. This was the perfect little place for an ambush.

As if on cue, four men leapt out of hiding, landing in front, behind, and to her sides. With weapons at their belts and turpitude in their smiles, their intentions were clear. “Good day, miss,” the man in front, who she took for their leader, mockingly greeted.

Azula might have chuckled, but she chose to play along instead. “What do you want?” she asked, doing her best to sound in distress.

“There’s a toll to go along this road,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Everyone who wants to get into Sangrah has to pay up first.”

To add to the act and entice their palpable greed, she pressed her hand against the coin pouch beneath her tunic. “But I’m just a humble traveler. I have nothing on my person that would be of interest to you.”

“Oh, I’m willing to bet you’ve got plenty to offer. At least more than the last guy.”

Azula, barely able to contain her laughter, made her hand start to tremble as it hovered over her mouth. “Oh, woe is me. All alone, surrounded by such fearsome cutthroats, whatever shall I do?”

Her other hand was already moving as the last word escaped her lips. The arrogance of her assailants died as blue flames erupted from her fist. The man to her left screamed as the fires struck the ground in front of him, rising up into an inferno that towered over him. He was lucky enough to escape with only a singed left foot. Seizing upon her opponents’ shock and terror, Azula crouched low and swung her leg out in a semicircle, forming a half ring of fire. The other men were quicker than their friend and backed away in time to avoid injury, but the one behind her tripped in his hurry, falling onto his back with a thud.

Despite the adrenaline racing through her, Azula still had the clarity to realize that this was the first time since she had reclaimed her firebending that she was letting it loose on someone outside of a sparring match. This was her first fight since Zuko and the Water Tribe girl.

Part of her found it a pity that her dry streak was broken by such pathetic enemies.

The lead thief was made of sterner stuff than his friends, shaking his head and drawing his sword. He raised it up and brought it down in a heavy, two-handed strike, but all he hit was thin air and the stone road as Azula jumped back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the bandit on her right was back on his feet and slowly raising his club. 

Her timing had to be just right.

“Is that really the best you can do?” she taunted the lead bandit, making him growl in fury and lung into another attack. Azula responded with a quick step to the left, letting his attack hit nothing once again. The same could not be said for his companion. The oaf had swung his club at where she just was, bludgeoning his leader’s shoulder in the process.

As the leader howled in pain, Azula swiftly moved behind him and jammed her foot into the back of his knee, sending him down. Her training with Aang had helped her regrow some of her lost musculature and stamina, but she was still recovering from eight years of inactivity. She could not match any of these men in terms of brute strength, but she didn’t need it to beat them. It had been one of Aang’s first lessons back on the island. She had asked him why he bothered reigning in such power when he could easily overwhelm his opponents. He responded with an airbending saying passed down from master to student for generations, “A small amount of leverage, well used, can move anything.”

It was so tempting to allow herself to truly cut loose, but that would have meant far more lethal moves, and that wasn’t something Azula was ready for.

The man who had jumped behind her at the beginning was armed with throwing knives. The first flew past her head, so close that she could hear the whirl of the blade as it moved through the air. The second went wide to her left, just missing her wrist. He never got the chance to throw a third. With two quick jabs with extended fingers, Azula let out two miniature fireballs. The first hit him in his right shoulder, the second in his left thigh. The knife thrower fell back down with a yowl.

The man with the club bull rushed her with his club held high over his shoulder. He was so careless with his large weapon that Azula just had to step to the side and let the momentum of his ill-planned swing knock him off balance. As he struggled to keep his footing, Azula, in an almost calm movement, grabbed his wrist and ignited a fire in her palm. As he screamed in pain, she finished him off with a kick to his jewels. It was hardly a dignified strike, but it worked. The man went down whimpering like a child.

The leader was an obstinate opponent, Azula had to admit. Favoring his left leg, he stumbled back up to make another attack. He came at her with a thrust again, but by then it was too late. Azula had thrown up a brief flash of flames from her hands into the air. Distracted and intimidated by her display, his attack missed by a mile. Azula finished what she had started and kicked him again in the knee. She felt the sharp crack through her foot as much as she heard it in her ear. The man tried to twist as he fell in a vain hope to catch her in a slash of his sword, but again he missed as she ducked. As his arm swung over her head, Azula hit it with a flaming palm. The burn was not a serious one, but the pain and disorientation finally caused him to drop his weapon.

With that, the fight was over. The old her would have inflicted far harsher wounds on those who would dare attack her, but Azula had restrained herself. Those old instincts were best left ignored, and she knew Aang wouldn’t approve of them. He probably wouldn’t have left these men with such nasty burns and breaks, but Azula found it a reasonable compromise between his methods and the ones she abandoned.

“So, tell me,” she stated, her voice brimming with triumph as she stepped up to the fallen leader. Azula didn’t intend to lord her victory over them, but the satisfaction came so easy. It still felt so natural to revel in her superiority. “Are you and your fearsome little gang going to take this as a lesson to stop harassing strangers on the road?”

The man’s expression grew an angry, bitter edge that overtook his fear and pain. “Should’ve guessed it before when I saw your face. You look so much like your old man.”

Azula paused, but hid her surprise under a calm veneer. “My father?”

“Guess he left you behind after the avatar kicked him and his people out of Sangrah, huh?”

Azula had hoped for the convenience of being ignored, to be seen as just one more stranger in the world, but she knew that a moment’s inspection of her features would give away her ethnicity. What she hadn’t anticipated was someone assuming that she was a war child, born from a Fire Nation father and an Earth Kingdom mother. She could use this to her advantage. After a century of war, there must have been hundreds, maybe thousands, in the Earth Kingdom with fire in their veins. What was one more walking through the crowds of a busy city?

“Well, be thankful that I am not my father. He would not have let you leave here with your lives. I am. So get going.”

“How are we supposed to leave on burned feat and broken legs, you dumb bitch!?”

The sudden flash of rage on her face made him twitch, breaking his defiant indignation. She knew Aang wouldn’t approve, but Azula was pleased by just how much fear she could still strike into the hearts of trash like this with only a look.

“Figure it out.” Azula left the men to nurse their injuries and wounded egos. The rest of her walk went uneventful, allowing Azula to contemplate the situation. If the main road wasn’t safe to travel, even so close to the city, Sangrah was in worse shape than the letter made it out to be.

* * *

Physically, the city still cut an impressive figure. Its thick, high outer wall shaped Sangrah into a circle. Originally constructed from rare sandstone, Azula’s keen eye spotted where Fire Nation catapults and ballistas of the long past siege had hit their mark, the scars given away by the repairs made with the clashing, more common adobe. During their flight, Aang had described, with a restrained contempt she rarely heard in his voice, a secondary wall within the city that divided the rich from the poor, the noble from the common. This inner wall formed a square that made up both the physical and economic heart of the city.

“There’s a local folktale that I heard the last time I was here,” Aang had explained when he called Sangrah the City of Coins. “The first Earth king, during his travels, was walking along a path on the side of Mount Nisra far to the north, pondering what course he would dictate for his royal mint. From his eagle-eye view, he could see the entirety of Sangrah below. Later, after experiencing the city’s riches and hospitality, the king declared that the shape of his coins would be based on the walls of Sangrah.”

“The insignia of a circle with a square in the center is an ancient one,” Azula replied, remembering that tedious lesson from her academy days. “It’s been used for so long and by so many different cultures of the Earth Kingdom that it’s probably older than written history. No one knows its exact origin.”

“You’re not wrong,” Aang agreed. “It’s an old story. Maybe there’s some grain of truth to it, at least for the people of the Sangrah. If nothing else, it’s a more romantic explanation for their nickname than just, ‘Hey, look at us! We’ve got so much money in so many forms of currency!’”

“All cultures love their little lies.” Azula would know. The Fire Nation certainly had more than its fair share.

The walls towered over her as she approached, slowly blocking out the sky. To her, however, any wall seemed small compared to the ones of Ba Sing Se. It was then Azula froze, realizing that this was the first time since her infamous coup that she had stepped foot into an Earth Kingdom city. She put aside the memory and resumed her approach.

The main gate was a large opening in the shape of an arch that ran from a few feet below the ramparts to the ground. The only way in or out of the city was for an earthbender to open the gate. A flaming missile from a catapult also would have done the job, but as Azula lacked the machinery or the earthbending to make her entrance, her words would have to suffice.

Three guards stood at their post, two standing at attention on the flanks while the third, his higher rank marked by the difference in his uniform, sat on a chair molded by earthbending, a board with papers, ink, and brush on the improvised table in front of him. He was so caught up in his admonishment of the traveler who came before her that he didn’t notice her approach. “I’ve already told you! The city guard isn’t responsible for lost, destroyed, or stolen property. There’s nothing anyone can do for the cart you lost on your way here.”

“BUT MY CABBAGES!”

“Look, old man!” the sergeant shouted, rising to his feet in anger. “Either head into the shopping district to explain what happened to whoever you were going to sell to, or be on your way elsewhere!”

The man’s shoulders slumped, his chin dejectedly landing on his chest in grief. It stayed there as he dolefully stepped past the guards and into the city. Azula took the chance to speak up. “Difficult day, sir?”

The sergeant sighed, rubbing his tired brow. “You have no idea.” He finished writing in the previous entry on his list before looking up at her. “State your name, miss.”

During her walk, Azula had carefully constructed her cover story, weaving lies to cover every question she might face while in disguise. The only detail that had escaped her was the alias she would use. She had ideas, certainly, but all of the suggestions supplied by her brain were from history books, military accounts, and stories that Aang had shared at their campfires. What passed for a modern, mundane name by Earth Kingdom standards? Without any more time to think, Azula answered, “Suki. My name is Suki.”

The guard eyed her curiously. “Odd name. Where you from?”

Her next lie flowed more effortlessly. “From a village near Full Moon Bay. I was named for my grandmother. She was a fishwife from Kyoshi Island.”

He seemed satisfied with her response and moved on to his next question. “What is your purpose for entering Sangrah?”

“I received a message from my aunt. She’s distraught over the recent chaos in the city, and asked for someone to come join her and my cousins.”

“Chaos is putting it mildly.” The sergeant was not so caught up in the daily annoyances of his duty that he was blind to obvious details. “You came here alone? On foot?”

“My ostrich horse was stolen by bandits on my way here, along with most of my coin.”

His eyes fell back to the paper in front of him as he wrote down the information she gave him. “Be thankful that’s all they took. A pretty girl like you is lucky they didn’t want anything more.”

The shamelessly casual way he said that made Azula want to punch him in the face. She had always known of the vulgarity and stupidity of men, but she hadn’t quite experienced it like this. The men of her family were of a cultured nature, and those below her always showed her the honor and fear a princess was owed. No man had ever spoken to her like that before. Her time with Aang had made her forget that he was a rare exception among his gender. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice free from how livid she felt. “Very lucky.”

The sergeant finished his entry next to her alias. “Head into the city. Try not to get involved in the politics, and don’t go wandering alone at night. Sangrah isn’t what it used to be.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied, hoping her clenched jaw and fists would go unnoticed as she walked into the City of Coins.

Past the gates, Azula stopped at a wall out of sight of the guards at the entrance, her lie repeating over and over in her head. “Suki,” she whispered to herself. Her mind became swarmed with memories. 

The real Suki was a skilled fighter, as were her sisters. Had it been anyone but her, Mai, and Ty Lee, the Kyoshi Warriors might have won that fight. The real Suki could have run, but no. Instead, she had chosen to scare off Appa so that he wouldn’t fight and get himself injured. Suki would rather have died than abandon her sisters or her duty. Azula had ordered Mai and Ty Lee to stay out of their clash, that the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors was hers and hers alone. Suki fell, but only after putting up an admirable fight.

In the Fire Nation, there was an old saying. A warrior’s progression is based on three aspects: the dedication they show in learning what their master has to teach, their will to persevere through hardships in the pursuit of power, and the strength of their enemies. To have a worthy rival was a great honor. A rival motivated people in ways that others could not. When they progressed, their counterpart would strive to match them, and they in turn would work harder to stay above their competitor. Without a good rival, a warrior’s mettle went untested. Power meant little if it could not be improved by facing another power of equal or even greater strength. This concept was millennia old, and shared among the many cultures of the Fire Nation. It even predated her forefather, the first fire lord of a united empire. Many legends and historical accounts spent as much time, if not more, on their hero’s nemesis as they did on their relations or spouse.

A worthy rival could be anyone. An enemy from an opposing country, a fellow student of their teacher, a friend, a family member.

Zuko might have filled that role, but as she was an early prodigy and their father’s favorite, she had never seen him as a true rival. Not until he joined the avatar’s side anyway.

Mai and Ty Lee were not firebenders, and as such her mind would not let them fit that role, even if her recognition of their talents inspired her to explore new methods of combat.

She had once expected, perhaps even hoped, that the infamous Avatar Aang would fulfill that long vacant role in her life. What better candidate for the nemesis of the perfect princess than the avatar? She had been disappointed in their early battles. His airbending allowed him to dodge and evade her every attack. She had become frustrated during her pursuit that he never faced her head to head in a real fight. Then they had their battle atop the drill, where he used earthbending against her for the first time. Ignoring her uncle tossing her off her own warship, Aang had handed Azula her first real defeat. Perhaps the humiliation and hatred she felt over that loss was what propelled her to strike him down with lightning in the catacombs. The stories always made having a rival seem so noble. Of course she had taken such a concept and made it so ugly.

By the time of the returning comet, her mind was too broken for her to see Katara of the Water Tribe as anything but a peasant and a nuisance during their fight. Underestimating her had sealed Azula’s defeat.

For lack of other candidates, Suki had become third among her rivals in her mind’s eye. But Azula had never shown Suki the honor that a rival was owed. She had easily deduced that Suki was the Kyoshi Warriors’ leader, and so had her separated from them. Azula had Fire Nation soldiers forcibly scrub off her war paint, strip her of her garb so Azula could use it to infiltrate Ba Sing Se, and keep her in chains at a fort until she returned. Following the fall of Ba Sing Se, she had turned the real Suki into a source of amusement for the journey home. While the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors were shipped off to a prison barge, Suki was locked in the brig of Azula’s warship until she sent her off to the Boiling Rock.

She had visited Suki almost every day of that voyage.

* * *

“Have you eaten today?”

The bowl of half cooked rice was untouched, as was the cup of water next to it.

“You have to keep your strength up,” Azula told her, her voice oozing with patronizing ridicule. “It’s going to be a long trip.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Suki did not hide her contempt.

Nothing got under a person’s skin more than to know that their anger bounced off their enemy like pebbles against a warship, to know that there was nothing they could do or even say against the person who had beaten them. Azula put a finger to her chin, letting out a long ‘hmm’ sound before speaking. “Well, let’s see. Zuko is on the ship with Mai, Ty Lee is busy with her stretches, and uncle is no fun to talk to. To answer your question, nope. You’re the best thing I have to do right now.”

“Lucky me.”

Azula sat on the chair brought to her by the guards. Suki was slouched over in her cell, unmoving. As usual. “Cheer up. No one likes a sore loser.”

“Does the Fire Nation really teach their leaders to spend their free time like this?”

“What can I say? You’ve won me over, Kyoshi Warrior. You’re easily my favorite prisoner.”

For the first time today, Suki raised her head to look Azula in the eye. “You’re not going to be able to hold me forever.”

She gave the proud warrior a condescending nod. “I know. That’s why I’m sending you to the Boiling Rock when we reach Fire Nation waters. It’s the finest prison in the empire. Surrounded by a lake of scalding water and maintained by our country’s finest guards, no one has ever broken out of there before.”

“Then I’ll be so happy when I’m the first.”

“Oh? Do they teach you escape techniques on that backwater island you come from? If you’re better at escaping prisons than you are at fighting, maybe you will be the first to break out of the Rock.”

Suki took in an audible breath, slowly sitting up straight. She was determined to show unwavering strength, that she wasn’t beaten in mind or spirit. “Sokka will come for me.”

This wasn’t the first time she had mentioned that name, but today was the day that Azula chose to pry, sensing this was the right opportunity to crush that bit of hope. She asked with a mocking shrug, “Who?”

Her defiant pride reared its pitiful face again. Suki even smiled as she proclaimed, “Sokka. He’s a warrior of the Southern Water Tribe, one of the few outsiders to ever earn the chance to learn the ways of the Kyoshi Warriors, and a member of Team Avatar.”

Azula’s question mixed with her laughter. “Wait, are you referring to that buffoon with the boomerang?”

Suki snapped forward, pulling her chains taut. “He’s smarter than you know, and stronger than any soldier of the Fire Nation! He’s going to rescue me! After that, we’ll fight together until this war ends, and you and your father are defeated!”

Azula said nothing at first, keeping her expression unfazed, her cold smile unchanged. She allowed the silence to last, using it to needle away at her plaything’s certainty. Then, just as Suki opened her mouth to speak again, Azula calmly informed her, “Oh, I’m afraid he has his hands full with other matters. What with the avatar being dead and all.”

Suki’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re lying!”

Azula raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. “Am I?”

To her credit, Suki’s resolve lasted longer under Azula’s domineering gaze than anticipated. But then the cracks started to show. Her muscles relaxed, her shoulders fell, and finally Suki’s gaze lowered to the floor.

“Your uniform came in great help, by the way. The Earth King welcomed us as honored guests. He even shared his battle strategies with us. By the time someone saw through our disguise, it was too late. The city was falling, along with the avatar.” Azula stood up and gave Suki a slight bow of the head. “Thank you for your contribution to the war effort.”

The defiance that Suki of Kyoshi Island showed her withered after that day. Azula knew she had gotten through to her when she stopped mentioning Sokka’s name altogether. By that point, she was no fun anymore.

* * *

Azula had beaten her. Azula had humiliated her. Azula had toyed with her mind, made a mockery of her hopes, and had nearly broken her spirit. She had done so much to that woman.

And now, once again, she had stolen something from Suki to serve her own purposes.

Azula felt like she was going to be sick. Knives started stabbing into her stomach and guts. Her arm began to shake, and for a moment she felt like she was going to collapse right there in the street. “Breathe,” she ordered herself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, and out. Again and again. _Keep doing it until the panic fades, until you regain control. Keep calm. Breathe in. Breathe out._

That had been one of Chiyo’s first lessons. Azula had to give the old healer her due. She had taken one of the basics of firebending and proven it possessed applications elsewhere. The horrible feeling gradually passed. It had been so long since she had an incident like this. At least Aang wasn’t around to see it.

Azula steadied herself and continued into the city of Sangrah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I was going to leave the Cabbage Merchant out of this AU, did you?
> 
> Writing a scene with past, more canon-typical Azula, having written so much of her redemption arc already and having plotted out the rest, was definitely an experience.
> 
> Thank you for your patience! This was originally going to be longer, but I decided to restructure the Sangrah arc to get this chapter out quicker.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Sincerely,  
> A.F.S.M.A.S.


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